Weapons of Mass Destruction
by Altra Palantir
Summary: Albus challenges Minerva to a Duel, and the other professors brace for impact. Sorry I haven't updated, I lost the chapter, but I found it, this afternoon in fact, so here's part 4!
1. The Challenge

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby formally challenge you, Minerva McGonagall to a duel at 12:34 AM next Tuesday," the Headmaster proclaimed, a twinkle in his eye marring the otherwise furious scowl with which he was regarding his colleague. "As in a Magical duel, the choice of weapons is unavailable, I will offer you your choice of any location on the school grounds."  
  
"I, Minerva Jane McGonagall accept your challenge. Quiddich Pitch. School brooms, I know how you've fiddled with yours. I'll see you fifty feet in the air." A quick glance proved she was fighting a smirk for all she was worth. "Good day Headmaster."  
  
"Good day, Professor McGonagall."  
  
"Is it safe to come out, Severus?" a terrified squeak asked from under a table.  
  
"Yes, Filius. The children have finished flirting and have left the building."  
  
"You make them sound like Elvis." Madam Hooch grinned. Severus hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about, and in fifteen years of teaching had learned that he didn't want to.  
  
"Oh! I hate it when they fight." Professor Sprout complained, shaking her fists in frustration.  
  
"Yes, it is quite revolting to see them enjoying themselves so immensely." Snape commented dryly.  
  
"Oh, Severus, don't be such a spoil-sport. You know how much fun their duels are to watch."  
  
"Poppy isn't going to be happy about this," Filius commented, "It took her two terms to forgive them last time."  
  
"Which, I would suppose, would be why they can only indulge themselves once a decade or so."  
  
"You did notice that the door was open, didn't you?" Madam Hooch grinned, ignoring the Potions master. "That means at least half a dozen students heard. "Which, of course, means there will be an audience." Flitwick squeaked in horror.  
  
"Poppy isn't going to like this at all," Professor Sprout said. "Don't worry, Filius, This lot is quite a bit more agile than the last that tried to watch. Perhaps they won't get hit quite as often... and Minerva should still be recovering a bit from the stunners... And they both are a decade older... maybe... they'll have slowed down a bit?" She trailed off uncertainly. "Do you suppose we should warn her?"   
  
"I'd suppose we ought ter say somethin'," Hagrid, who had just extracted himself from behind a wardrobe, reluctantly offered. "If on'y to keep us on Madam Pomfrey's good side."  
  
"I wasn't aware she had one."  
  
"So, where do you think would be the best place to watch?"  
  
"I suppose you haven't forgotten that you and I are very likely to be drafted as seconds in this duel." Snape retorted morosely.  
  
"Oh, good. Then I won't have to find that dratted invisibility cloak," Hooch replied. "Say, Severus, what do you say to drafting a little... non-agression pact? Since we're the only ones who aren't in denial about what Minerva and the Headmaster are really in this for."  
  
"I have no arguement with you, Madam Hooch." Snape sneered, "Unless you continue your current line of insinuations, I see no point in reaching this agreement."  
  
"Thank you, Severus." She tried to shake his hand, but he refused. "Well, erm... have a nice week?" 


	2. 12:34 on Tuesday

Author's Note: I forgot my disclaimer last chapter. Here it is. I own nothing except my extremely lengthy sentance structure. Do not sue me. I'm an extremely broke (and busy) senior who hasn't yet found the time to get a summer job. Just enjoy the story.   
  
It had been a strange day, and as Minerva McGonagall mused over it on her way back to her rooms from dinner, a very dangerous smile crept onto her face. In just over five hours, victory would be hers, one way or another.   
  
Albus Dumbledore soared high above the ground, smiling arrogantly. In a few minutes, victory would be his. Professor McGonagall scowled at him and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Well," said Madam Hooch, excitedly, "I suppose the two of you know the rules. Good Luck." Her delight in what was to come was only matched by Snape's disgust. He sat on his broom, seemingly trying to look bat-like and bored at the same time. Hooch rolled her eyes. In all the years she had known him, he hadn't managed to aquire a sense of humor.  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall saluted each other and flew in opposite directions. Even on the ground, they doubled the standard number of required paces. Hooch supposed this was to prevent them from turning each other into smouldering craters on the first go.  
  
"Three... Two... One..." she blew her whistle. In the teachers' box, Sprout and Flitwick cringed, leaning on each other for moral support. Sinistra, Vector and Hagrid didn't appear quite as worried. Respectively, they were too naive, level-headed and trusting to understand the true danger.   
  
While still quite angry, Madam Pomfrey had agreed to stand by in the infirmary. Neither Divination professor had deigned to attend -though Sybil Trelawney had recently invested in an expensive pair of binoculars- and nobody had bothered to tell the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. They felt that the danger was too great, as Hogwarts was on it's sixth professor in as many years.  
  
The Dueling professors spun to face each other. The students, among whom were every member of all four Quiddich teams and the entire DA, held their breath. Dumbledore looked fiendish; McGonagall, murderous. It was all going to be over... in just... a...  
  
Author's Note: Sorry for the cut off.... I haven't had time to get on the internet yet... and I need to get on the Harry Potter Lexicon to look up the proper spells with which our favorite professors will decimate, maim, filet and otherwise beat the crap out of each other with..... and I want to post something next time I get on.... so..... I'm going to put this part up.... you're going to yell at me.... I'm going to write the rest as soon as I get offline.... it should be up tomorrow.... unlesss my father makes me dig that damnable trench across the front yard that he wants me to..... then you might have to wait two days.... but I promise it will come!  
  
Thanks for your patience! (yeah right) 


	3. At the Quiddich Pitch

Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long. I meant to have it up a few days ago, but my mother took a college seminar thing, and it was about four hours away, so guess who got stuck taking care of her kid sister? If it helps, this chapter is longer than the last.... And there will be another one.... as soon as I finish it.... after Latin tomorrow. Enjoy.  
  
... few seconds. As Dumbledore rolled on his broom to avoid the aftermath of their opening spells, Harry Potter realized that this wasn't just a good show for the D.A. Dumbledore and, especially, McGonagall flew as well as any professional Quiddich player he'd ever seen. Ron was staring at them, openmouthed, while Hermione was wringing her hands nervously.  
  
"Don't you think this is a bit irresponsible?" she asked.  
  
"Avis," shouted Dumbledore, sending a flock of pigeons into McGonagall's face. She cursed and dove under them, whipping around to rise up behind her opponent.  
  
"Engorgio!" she shouted, triumphantly, pointing her wand at the tail end of his broom. As it swelled, Dumbledore was thrown off balance, sending him careening toward the ground.  
  
"What if they injure each other?" Hermione asked, "Or what if.. Voldemort found out, and he's using this time to launch an attack?" Harry was proud. She only slightly flinched at the name.  
  
"Only three Order Members are involved." Ginny said sensibly, as Snape dodged a wayward spell. "Everyone else is on duty, just like they always are."  
  
"Dumbledore wouldn't do anything to mess up the war." Neville added, "Besides if Voldemort were to show up, they'd forget the duel in a heartbeat."  
  
Dumbledore fixed his broom and shot back into the sky just in time. As he re-oriented himself, his hat brushed the ground and fell off.  
  
"All right, Minerva! If that's how you want to play..." he shouted, grinning visciously. "Accio Hairpins!" Several dozen tiny black objects flew out of McGonagall's bun. She gasped. Her long dark hair tumbled down her back, and swirled in her face as she flew, matching Dumbledore's at least for length, if not color. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the pins he had stolen to attack him.  
  
"Incarcerous!" she shouted. A thick rope shot out of thin air to wrap itself around the Headmaster. It caught his right arm and pinned it to his body.  
  
"Impedimentia!" he replied, his wand suddenly in his left hand. She dodged the spell.  
  
"I wish I could send a picture of this to my father." Luna sighed. "Does anyone have a rock? If I move my foot, the wind will expose us." It was impossible to fit six people under a single cloak, so Harry had talked Fred and George into picking up another one for him at Diagon Alley and shipping it to the school. With the aid of a nearby bush, the six of them had rigged the two cloaks into a sort of tent. The dueling Professors moved out of their line of vision. When Harry could see them again, Madam Hooch was rushing to put out the blazing Slytherin stands, and Dumbledore was dodging several sets of throwing knives.   
  
Their next spells collided, with very odd results. Dumbledore's Tarantallegra bounced toward the invisible tent, hitting a rabbit just inches away. The effect was far more comical with four legs instead of two. Hermione and Luna both shrieked in horror, and simultateously cast the countercharm.  
  
McGonagall's Rictusempra hit Snape. Harry had never seen him so much as smile, and therefore was rather taken aback when he laughed so hard he fell off of his broom. 


	4. A Splendid Time Is Guaranteed For All

Author's Note: Um... er... losing notebooks is a really bad thing. I really meant to post this back in June, I swear I did! I just kind of lost, er... rather, temporarily misplaced my notebook after Latin, and I just found it, today actually. I immediately typed it, and posted it, and now the angry one who bludgeons people with pine trees won't kill me... Sorry about the delay, I should be back on track now. (Don't hold your breath though. This year has been busier than I thought.) Anyway... Enjoy the chapter. 

Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall raced towards him.  
"Immombulus!" Hooch shouted, freezing him seven feet from the ground.  
"Finite Incantatem!" McGonagall unfortunately shouted just a second later. Snape stopped laughing, and landed on the ground with a thud and a crunch.  
The students gasped. Flitwick squeaked and toppled over, practically taking Sprout with him. The other professors stared in amazement. The duelists both landed.  
"What on Earth do you think you're doing, Minerva?" Albus shouted angrily. "I know you and Severus don't get along, but you could have killed him"  
Snape groaned, "I think not." He choked, trying to get his wind back, "It is beneath my dignity to die from laughter." He tried to stand. Gasping in pain, he sat again. "I think I've broken my leg"  
"I'll take you to Poppy, Severus. She'll have you back in no time." Snape gagged unpleasantly. Hooch grinned as she helped him from the pitch. "Meanwhile, you've got to learn to duck." Hooch babbled on as they stumbled toward the castle, as Ron tried very hard to collect himself from the ground. "Ronald Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed in a stage whisper. "It isn't funny"  
Harry lost his battle with keeping a straight face, "Yes it is, Hermione. I wish Sirius could have seen it"  
McGonagall's angry shouts caught their attention once again. "How dare you even insinuate such a thing, Albus!" she shrieked.  
"Every insinuation has a grain of truth, my dear professor." he replied sarcastically. She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She slapped him across the face. He set her robes on fire. And they were at it again, but they weren't joking this time.


End file.
